


Insert title here

by rayrae7



Category: Danny Phantom, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, Hurt/Comfort, My First Fanfic, Panic Attacks, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6229093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayrae7/pseuds/rayrae7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Wayne meets a young boy living in Arkham and of course takes the stray  under his wing. The only problem is that Danny has no memory of his previous life and something is seriously wrong has happened.<br/>Yeah first story and don't really understand tags. . . more info in notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story and I keep saying that but I'm really nervous! Any feedback would be very appreciated. 
> 
> This is sort of similar to another fanfic I read a while ago on fanfiction.net, but now I can't find it and it ended abruptly so I thought, what the heck, lets do this. If anyone can find it, I will gladly credit the author for the idea. 
> 
> I know this is a very short chapter, but its more of a preface than a chapter. Promise to update soon! Also, need to figure out how to add chapters. . . . . :) Lastly, if anyone reading has title ideas, I am open for suggestions.

The boy woke up to a strange someone in his face. Awareness was hard to grasp as the medication they had him on always made him feel drowsy. He was first conscious of a hand on his shoulder as the blurry face gradually clarified to that of Mr. Jacobs', one of Arkham's many orderlies. The boy, as he knew no other name, obligingly began to get up, but was prevented by the hand, which tightened its grip on his shoulder and held him down. He was confused but not yet alarmed, staring down at the alien hand. Then the other hand joined its partner before slowly creeping down to the hem of his shirt and . . .

Pain. Everything hurt. He curled pitifully into a fetal position as he struggled to protect his face and internal organs. The orderlies around him, he couldn't tell how many, kicked and punched and beat him with their batons until he couldn't hold the darkness at bay and succumbed again to unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note at end!

The mysterious boy in cell 5A spent most of his days in a drug induced sleep. When he had first arrived, many of the orderlies had steered clear, unnerved by the blinking inhibitor collar around the his neck and the overall oddness of his arrival. The boy had just appeared in his cell one day, with his raven black hair knotted and a complexion as pale as a ghost. When someone logged into the computer system, they were surprised to find his data already processed, having already been diagnosed, prescribed, and admitted as a full time patient. 

To add to the mystery, the security cameras seemed to have blacked out at the previous night and missed the official transaction. One minute the cell was empty. The next, there was a pause for static before the cell was revealed with its new occupant. A minor tech problem, most likely. Though one neighboring inmate claimed to have seen strange men in white uniforms. He rambled on about government conspiracies and aliens, but who is going to take a nut job seriously? Several braver orderlies attempted to question the boy, but he seemed to have no recollection of anything and panicked easily. 

The other inmates were not so turned off by the allusive circumstances. If anything, they were more intrigued and took great pleasure in calling and teasing to the young boy. Eventually though, they grew bored with his lack of response and his uniqueness faded. 

Which brings us to one unusual night, where despite his perpetual drowsiness, he awoke to the sounds of sirens blaring in the red lit hall. The other inmates were already awake and making a commotion, banging against their bars and hollering over the ruckus. Abruptly, the sirens cut off and a spindly figure skipped down the hall, humming gleefully while twirling a hand gun around his finger. As it grows closer, the boy recognizes the shape as the notorious inmate known as Joker. Though he had never seen the crazy in action, he had heard gruesome tales of the murderous tendencies and horrific crimes. The child liking humming amplifies as the psychopath draws closer, silencing the other inmates and sending a shiver down the boy's neck. If Joker was loose, something was seriously wrong. A horrid thought of what the clown had planned for the innocent people outside, sent a surge of dread and responsibility through the boy. Someone had to stop him. 

And before he can completely comprehend the repercussions of his actions, the young boy reaches an arm out through the bars and grabs the Joker's leg, sending him sprawling to the floor. Shocked silence that follows is filled with the maniacal laughter of the clown. They begin as soft giggles that rise to a booming crescendo as rolls around and gets up. He locks eyes with the boy, pausing his laughter to glare menacingly. 

"You," He gasps as leans closer to the bars separating them with a sinister head tilt. From behind his back he pulls the gun ad levels it at the boy's head. He kneels there motionlessly, unable to respond as he stares down the gun barrel. 

"tripped me!" Joker pulls the trigger and the boy flinches at the loud noise. The anticipated pain of a bullet drilling through his brain never comes though and he opens his eyes, dumbstruck by the cartoon flag that waves out of the gun, showing "BANG" in big cartoonish letters. Jokers face morphs to his trademark ghastly smile that stretches across his whole face. His eyes are stilled locked on the boy unblinking and a laugh erupts from his mouth just as a black gloved fist collides with the psychopath's face. 

v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

Batman breaks through the main door and silently sprints down the hall while Robin skids closely behind. He brakes abruptly to check around the corner, and the boy wonder almost runs into him. A protective instinct rises from the black clad figure as he glares back at his brightly colored protégé. All though Dick had insisted he was fine, Bruce recognizes that school finals were only yesterday and that the younger boy is exhausted. It was fine for him to tag along for patrol in this shape and when the alarm at Arkham had gone off they had both hopped in the batmobile. Now that they were here though, with Joker on the loose somewhere in the building, well Batman rarely let Robin deal with the dangerous psychopath even on better days. Sighing slightly, he motions for Rob to infiltrate the surveillance room. Rob let out a soft groan in response but knew better than to object to a direct order in the field. 

Meanwhile, the bat continues sleuthly slinking down the hall, looking for signs of the clown's presence besides the evident alarms and lights. The red lights and sirens stopped suddenly and a soft cackle could be heard over the comm as batman's mask automatically switched to night vision. 

"That was way too easy," bragged Robin. "Seriously, they should consider upgrading their security." 

Batman growled, "Robin, focus. Where's Joker?"

Rob sobered at the mention of the clown's name. "Going through the cams now, just one. . . wait.," he paused dramatically. "Found our psychopath, take the next 2 lefts, he's in cell hall A, approaching the exit."Batman turned the first corner and picked up the pace as he continued to listen to Robin.

"Careful he's armed." He added quizzically. "How did he even get a gun in here? It's one hand gun, but he could be con. . . wait, he tripped?" Batman turned the corner in time to see the clown at the opposite end of the hall picking up his gun and aiming it at one of the cells. 

"You tripped me!" he shouts, and pulls the trigger.

Batman lunges but knows he can't reach him in time. Thankfully, a gag flag pops out and Joker reels back with laughter. Keeping with his momentum Batman attacks the clown, punching him solidly in the jaw and knocking Joker to the floor. 

"Oh boy, Bats!" He mumbles out loud, before being knocked out. Although he feels that the nut job is limp underneath him, Batman doesn't let go until he has him properly restrained, ensuring that he is really unconscious. Down the hall and back the way he came, the door slams open and five officers burst in, flashlights and guns waving. 

"GCPD! Show yourself!" The room is dark and hallway long, so they don't immediately spot the Bat hidden in the shadows. Batman hesitates, checking the lock on the cuffs and taking a second to glance at the cell to his left. What is inside surprises him. The inmate is young, much to young to be in an institute like Arkham. The first distinguishing mark is the big bruise that has swollen his right eye shut. The way the boy stands and holds his side indicates that their is even more damage concealed by the oversized shirt. The boy's tangled black hair reminds Bruce painfully of his own son's and his bright green eyes almost appear to glow in the darkness. What stands out the most though, is his expression. Where most villains looked at the powerful man with fear or contempt, the boy's wide tired eye stares back at him curiously. He seems almost grateful. This boy must have reached through the bars and grabbed the Joker's leg, effectively stalling him and preventing his escape. Not many people have the guts to stand up against Joker and Bruce feels admiration for the small act. He decides to check back with this strange boy and investigate further how he ended up here. Until then though, Joker still needed dealt with. Hauling the clown up, he shoved him towards the cops before disappearing to regroup with Robin and head home to the batcave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you to everybody who read and liked my work! Seriously just wow! Remember, feedback is always appreciated, and I would appreciate constructive criticism. I'm always looking to improve. (PS still looking for a title. . . )
> 
> So yeah, very action packed update. Tenses are tricky, if you spot any errors. It took a lot longer to type than I estimated, but I will probably update every two weeks. Next chapter will probably have Bruce taking a little visit to Arkham, and then the real story can begin!


	3. Chapter 3

Barely a week had passed since the near Joker breakout and Arkham's staff were still on high alert. Almost miraculously, no one had been killed during the incident, but nine security guards and two orderlies had been seriously injured, enough that they were sorely understaffed. Worst of all to come out of the whole fiasco, the mountains of paperwork that still needed filled out. It was truly a deplorable time.

Bruce Wayne could not have picked a worst time to visit, but with his name and large funding came a certain entitlement to sporadically check on the condition of his investment, albeit a non-profit one. After all, his contributions practically provided the staffs' paychecks, covering where the limited federal budget could not.

He smiled charismatically in his suit and tie as he strode down the hall, ignoring the secretary that chased after. She bustled around him, attempting to passively steer him back towards the main lobby and failing miserably. Undeterred, Bruce walked confidently towards the Director's office.

"Mr. Wayne!" She protested, "I'm sure Dr. Arkham is very busy working at the moment!"

Bruce just chuckled, "well, I would hope so, I wouldn't want my funding to go to waste." The secretary looked exasperated and Bruce's compatriot, a business woman from Wayne Enterprise, exchanged a sympathetic look with her, smiling softly and shrugging at her boss's antics. Mr. Wayne was a man on a mission and rarely did he not get what he wanted.

The mismatched threesome rounded the corner just as Dr. Jeremiah Arkham exited his office. "Oh Mr. Wayne, what an. . . unexpected surprise." He said, recovering quickly from his shock and putting on a forced smile as he stuck out his hand. "To what do we owe this visit?"

Bruce's smooth smile disappeared as he shook the doctor's hand, pulling them closer. "Does a benefactor need a reason?"

Arkham's face faltered for a moment, "O well, not really sir." However Bruce's serious demeanor shifted back.

"I'm kidding with you." He quickly continued. "I'm here about the Joker incident. The latest one to be precise. If you have  couple minutes that is. . ."

"There's always time for benefactors such as yourself Mr. Wayne." Arkham gestured towards his office, leading the two guests inside and waving away the secretary. "What in particular would you like to discuss?"

"In short, your security needs an upgrade. There's been far too many incidents this month alone. If you’re interested, I've brought along my compatriot, Ms. Smoak, to discuss a potential monetary donation to back any security endeavors."

Arkham seemed at a loss for words by the generous offer. "Mr. Wayne, this is a most eager proposition indeed and we are truly grateful." He went to shake his hand again, but Ms. Smoak intercepted the offer.

"I'll be negotiating terms with you, Mr. Wayne lacks the patience for his business's more technical finances." She said, smiling curtly and sitting down at the desk while pulling out a file of papers. Bruce chuckled good naturedly as he slowly backed out.

"I'll leave you two to it, then. In the meantime, you don't mind if I take a short tour?"

Dr. Arkham hastily made to stop him, “I’d be delighted to call one of the secretaries back to . . . “ but Bruce had already vanished around the corner. The second he’s out of sight, his act drops. Time to get serious. Honestly, Bruce didn't trust the doctor very much; he seemed nice but was very secretive and some of his dealings were a bit too shady. Either way, Bruce would do better freely investigating without one of the doctor’s lackeys breathing down his neck.

Bruce wandered along the office hallways and back towards the main lobby where the security checkpoints were located. At the checkpoint, he stored his belt, wallet, and watch in the deposit bins before ducking through the metal detector and waving at the guard in the box who, with recognition, quickly unlocked the gate for him.

Once inside the compound, the very atmosphere seemed to house a malicious nature. Perhaps it was the occupants’ insanity that physically permeated the building’s nooks and crannies, or maybe the patients merely reflected their environment, surrounded by such unholy corruption. Dramatic speculations aside, Bruce settled that anyone could be driven inside by the winding halls with their blank walls and flickering lights. He observed all this as he worked his way inward, cataloging the familiar route and pausing at the entrance to cell block A. It was a repeat of the other night, but this time the halls lights shone brightly, revealing the empty cells. A bit disturbing, but since it was nearly noon, he inferred it must be lunch time and headed towards the cafeteria.

The ruckus of the cafeteria easily carried through the empty halls and as Bruce paused as he came into view of the mess hall, scoping out the area from his spot in the hall. He quickly spotted the boy from before. He was excluded from the rest of the inmates, who seemed to ignore him, giving him a wide berth of space. As a result, he ate alone in the corner.

Batman’s first response to investigating into the mysterious boy had been to look him up on Arkham’s database. Thankfully, Robin had left a backdoor on their computers, which made hacking into their system much faster. His file didn’t inform much though. It had all the basic information, height, weight, blood type, etc. but some of the key facts, particularly the background stuff, was left blank. How could a kid be a complete John Doe, not a single person or system looking for him? Bruce observed the boy from the hall, where he was for the most part concealed by shadows. He didn't seem to be eating much, barely able to keep his head up, which was not a good sign since even from this distance you could see he was clearly underweight. Bruce recalled the boy’s brief treatment logs, which were mildly more complete than the rest of his file. Just daily updates kept track of his meds, with no documentation that he was receiving any kind of therapy or progressive treatment. The kid was on some powerful tranquilizers though, a dosage more suited for a full-grown man twice the size of his emaciated frame.

None of the loonies took much notice as Bruce stepped out of his hiding spot and approached the goldfish bowl of bars that quartinited them in the lunchroom. On either side of the door was a guard with even more armed men and the odd doctor along the perimeter. Bruce smiled as the two door guards took notice of him and one broke off to head towards him. “Mr. Wayne! Do you have an escort?” He called, looking around nervously.

“No, no. Just having a small look around, if that’s alright?” Bruce didn't wait for an answer as he continued, smoothly changing the subject. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did the kid end up here? I didn't see anything in the news about a minor being admitted into Arkham, didn't even know that was legal. Seems like a big deal.” He gestured towards the boy.

The guard looked a bit anxious. “ Well, um, I'm not exactly sure how he wound up here. . .” he trailed off, before picking up, “but he definitely belongs here! He’s real dangerous! Went berserk on an orderly just last week. It took seven guards just to pin him down and sedate him. Think they upped his dosage after that, but that's just what I heard.”

“Seven guards, there is no way.” Bruce scoffed, turning away from the guard.

“No really!” He interceded, “Something strange about him. They say his eyes glow green whenever he goes manic. And it's true! I’ve seen it and you can see it too, on the security tapes!”

“Ok.” Bruce replies with a sort of finality.

“Ok?” The guard looked confused.

“I’d love to see that footage.” Bruce responded, slight smirk on his face. “I’ll even bet you a hundred dollars that it’s not real. Shouldn’t be a problem, unless you exaggerated the whole thing.” The guard was almost flabbergasted as Bruce guided the two of them back down the hallway. “Now, which was the way to the security room?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, I updated! Must be the end of the world guys.  
> Quick note, Bruce gets a bit OC-ish for me, turns a little super-spy charismatic James Bond. O well. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who left Kudos!! <3  
> Special shoutout to my first commenters, NearDrarryExperience and G, as well as Megamonia for finding the original work that this was inspired by. It's on fanfiction.net and is called "Cell of A Splintered Past" by LunagaleMasters and everyone who likes this could go check theirs out. 
> 
> PS: still in need of a title. . .


End file.
